An Innocent Obsession Read online

  “Never,” I mutter thickly, licking the fluttering vein at the base of her neck. “There’s nothing you could do in front of me I wouldn’t love.” My hands settle on her knees, thumbs circling once on the soft insides of her thighs—

  She slaps a hand over her mouth and screams, her body shaking violently against mine. I have a moment of fear that I’ve inadvertently hurt this beautiful creature…but I realize quickly she’s having an orgasm. Not just any orgasm, though. She’s staring blindly up at me, teeth marks on her lower lips, legs dancing around me, body heaving. I’ve never seen anything more sensual or incredible in my life. I barely touched this girl and now she’s having a full-body climax, her back arching to show off her tight-peaked tits. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve this gift from God, but I’m never letting her go. I’m not even sure I’m capable of letting her out of my sight.

  Finished shaking, Emery covers her face with her hands. “Remember when you were eight and you thought hiding like this made you invisible?” she says, her voice uneven. “I really wish that was true right now.”

  “Emery,” I rasp, letting my hands ride higher on her thighs and watching in fascination as her hands shoot to the edge of the desk, clenching around the wood, my barest touch almost seems to cause her sexual pain. “That was beautiful. You, angel, are so fucking beautiful.”

  She searches my eyes. “Am I dreaming this?”

  “I could ask myself the same question.”

  Her nose wrinkles. “If I’m dreaming?”

  A warm laugh is drawn out of me. “No, if I am.”

  “Oh.” Her expression turns a little dazed, as if the relief of her orgasm is finally registering. “What do we do now?”

  “There are two things I’d like to do.” The pressure in my cock is becoming unbearable and I reach down to adjust it, noticing Emery’s body as jerk as I complete the action, a moan tumbling out of her mouth. “All right, three things. I’d like to do three things, but I’m going to do two of them. For the time being.”

  She nods and folds her hands in her lap, eager and adorable. “What are they?”

  I press my lips together to trap a growl, but I end up letting it out as soon as my lips brush her ear. “I want to spread your legs apart and see the mess you just made for me in your panties.” A shudder passes through Emery and her fingers fly to the sides of my suit jacket, twisting in the material. “And then I want a desk brought in here. Starting now, you’ll be working in here with me.” My hands turn into fists on the desk. “Are there men in your life? Any men at all, Emery. Friends, brothers, a father…” I swallow a roar. “Boyfriends?”

  “No. None.” I search her eyes to make sure she’s telling the truth as she continues, a small frown wrinkling her brow. “There is a man who operates the building elevator and—”

  “And?”

  “And the men who come down to the file room to request records.”

  I swear to God I’m one second from beast fucking her on this desk, this need to possess is so strong. So rampant. “You will take my private elevator from now on, Emery. And no more file room.” I pick up the phone and bark the orders into my phone before hanging it up. “You’re my new assistant.”

  She faints.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Emery

  Well isn’t this an interesting turn of events?

  I focus on denying my body its approaching orgasm, but it’s almost impossible with Clark’s hand on the small of my back. He’s guiding me through a restaurant I wouldn’t be able to afford in a million years, in my cheap thrift shop dress. Everyone is staring at me, some people even snapping discreet pictures with their cell phones. More than anything, I want to turn and hide inside the flaps of Clarke’s overcoat, but I put my chin up and bear the scrutiny. I won’t be anything less than proud to be at this man’s side.

  Although…how am I at this man’s side?

  I’m still not fully convinced this isn’t happening in one of my elaborate fantasies. It wouldn’t be the first time I got carried away with a daydream, after all. I once convinced myself so completely that I was Mrs. Carroway, I fell asleep in his bed and woke up in the darkness. I barely made it out before he was set to arrive back home.

  The maître d’ slides a panel aside when we reach the rear of the restaurant and I cover my mouth with both hands. What greets my eyes is something out of a fairy tale. There is a small table in the center of the room. No windows. Candles flickering on bookcases and ledges everywhere. There must be hundreds.

  “This room is all for us?” I breathe.

  Clark’s hand travels up my spine, his fingers sliding into my hair. “It’s all for you, angel.”

  How? I’m the girl that cleans his apartment. The girl who embellished her skills on her résumé to get a job, just so she could breathe the same air as Clarke Carroway. Just so I could travel the same hallways as him.

  I hesitate at the edge of the room, thinking of my secret drawer full of his possessions. Little things I’ve pilfered over the years. If he knew who I was and what I’ve done, he wouldn’t be taking me out for a fancy meal. He’d be calling the police.

  He would be disgusted with me.

  “Angel,” he whispers against my temple. “You fainted in my office. If you hadn’t woken up within five seconds, we’d be at my physician’s office right now.” His lips brush me, and I squeeze my thighs together. “You promised you’d let me feed you in exchange for no doctor. That was the deal.”

  I think of his panicked expression when I woke up. How he’d been mid-shout of my name. “I didn’t faint because I was hungry. It was just…a lot at once.”

  “You’re telling me.” He guides me into the room and this time, I let him. “It’ll make me feel better if we get you something to eat.” My gorgeous boss—the man I’ve been stalking for years—turns to the maître d’. “Shrimp cocktail, two steaks, medium, and anything chocolate for dessert. As soon as possible. Thank you.”

  I force myself to soak up the experience. The unbelievable reality of Clarke pulling out a chair for me, brushing the hair back from my shoulders, pouring me a glass of wine. Oh, crap. Pouring me a glass of wine. I can’t bring herself to lie to this amazing man about one more thing. “Um, Mr. Carroway?”

  “Clarke.”

  “Clarke,” I murmur, trying not to visibly relish his name on my tongue. “I’m not old enough to drink that.”

  He pauses in the middle of pouring and raises an eyebrow at me. “Really.”

  “Afraid so.”

  Flickering flames make the shadows dance around on his face. “How many years until you are old enough to drink alcohol?”

  “A little less than two.”

  “You’re nineteen.” Clarke sets down the bottle and massages his forehead. “Christ.”

  A pang catches me in the throat. “I’m too young for you.”

  “Yes.” His eyes capture mine. “And I should be worried that your age isn’t making a damn bit of difference in how bad I want you, shouldn’t I?” He leans back in his chair like an indolent king and my loins turn heavy at the reminder that Clarke has another side. How many times have I seen the proof in photographs? This is the man who is forever poised on the edge of a growl, ready to scatter reporters with a dark glance. This is the man who I fantasize about creeping into my bed at night, telling me to keep quiet and hiking up my nightgown. “Come over here and sit on my lap, angel.”

  Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. “What if I…you know. Again.”

  He pats his leg. “Do you think I wouldn’t love going back to the office with your cream all over my thigh?” Something dark flashes in his eyes. “I’d visit every floor of the building so the other men could smell it.”

  Clarke Carroway is attracted to me. I still can’t quite believe it. He wants my body. Badly, it seems. Again, my conscience niggles at me. He doesn’t know what he’s getting into. He doesn’t know I’ve been infatuated with him since I was fourteen. My body won’t let me deny his needs
or wants, however, so I rise from my chair and move to stand between his outstretched thighs. As my belly trembles, I watch him wrap the hem of my dress in his fists. “You fainted before I got to see how well we soaked your panties.”

  I have to hold his shoulders for support or I’m going to drop. “Y-you can look now,” I whisper, forgetting where I am for a moment. “You can do anything you want with me.”

  His eyes flash to mine, but he doesn’t seem turned off. Or weirded out. On the contrary. He seems like he’s barely keeping himself restrained as he lifts the hem of my dress—and his jaw flexes. “New rule, angel. My rule.” He shakes his head. “You’re old enough to soak your underpants until they’re dripping wet, so you’re allowed a glass of wine.” I can’t stop trembling as he drags the sodden panties down my legs and tucks them into his jacket pocket. “Come here.”

  I turn and sit on Clark’s thigh and it’s so high off the ground that my feet dangle between his calves. “Do you always make your own rules?”

  “Yes.” He brings a glass of wine to my lips. I take a long sip and he does the same, before he sets it back down on the table. “Good?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Nineteen.” He blows out a breath and exhales it against my neck. “Why are you working in the file room instead of going to school?”

  “I’m still working on saving the money.” Thinking about how much progress I’ve made between my file room job and cleaning houses, I smile. “I’m really close. This time next year, I’ll be entering the business program at Baruch.”

  “Business?”

  I raise a teasing eyebrow at his tone. “That’s right. I drop a couple of files and all of a sudden I don’t look business-y to you?”

  “Maybe not with wine staining your lips and your panties in my pocket.” We laugh and he cups the side of my face. “But yes, angel. Of course I can see that.” For a moment, I swear he can see right through me. “There’s something about you…that tells me you can do anything. Where did you come from, Emery?”

  Again, I find it impossible to lie. Even a little bit. I just want to hold on to this impossible moment with Clarke as long as I can. Who knows when it will end? In five minutes? Five hours or days? It can’t go on indefinitely. He’s a powerful man. Probably the only reason he hasn’t ordered a background check on me is because he refuses to let me out of his sight long enough to make the phone call. “I’m from here and there,” I whisper. “My parents aren’t around anymore—not for a while. I live with my friend, Karen.”

  “How long have you been working at Carroway-Silver?”

  “A year.”

  “Please don’t tell me that.” He closes his eyes briefly, his hand traveling along the curve of my hip. “You’ve only been a few floors away. How is it possible I haven’t seen you?”

  “I was just filling in while Marion is away.”

  His brow knits together. “Who?”

  “The woman who brings up your files. She’s my supervisor.”

  Clarke’s mouth settles on mine and I brace, my heart shooting up into my throat. He’s finally going to kiss me and I’m never going to recover, but what glorious suffering it will be. “Thank God she went on vacation,” he whispers, his breath warming my mouth. “How is it possible I just met you, Emery? It feels like you’ve been mine forever.” He tastes me with a groaning interlocking of mouths, his tongue flicking my upper lip. “I’m afraid I’m going to be very selfish with you, angel.”

  I stroke his jaw. “How so?”

  His expression is apologetic yet firm. “You’re not going home tonight.”

  “What?”

  “My home is the safest place in the city.” He licks into my mouth and wrestles my tongue into a kiss. It must be painfully obvious I’ve never kissed a man before, but I think the pulsing ridge of flesh under my backside is a signal he doesn’t mind. What I learned about the male body, I learned from Karen. And I’m pretty sure her information comes from romance novels, so I darn well know what that hard flesh means. It means he wants me.

  Urgently.

  If he takes me home, I’ll spend the night in Clarke’s bed. With him, this time.

  Huge difference.

  Clarke’s hand finds my breast and rasps his palm over my nipple in a slow circle. I have to break the kiss in order to suck in a breath and I look down, watching him touch me in a trance. Not a dream. It’s not a dream.

  “You’ve never taken a man inside this precious body of yours, have you, angel?”

  “No.”

  His knuckles clamp around my straining nipple, hard enough to send a jolt through me. “I’m going to be the first,” he growls, giving me meaningful eye contact. “I won’t rush you. If you want to sleep in my guest room until we know each other better, that’s what we’ll do. But I won’t sleep for a goddamn second until I’ve conquered your untested little pussy. It’s mine.”

  An orgasm is rushing toward me, tightening the intimate muscles between my legs. They’re contracting and releasing and the more Clarke fondles my breasts, the more intense the buildup. “I don’t want to wait.”

  Clarke’s nostrils flare and he yanks down the bodice of my dress, causing the tips of my breasts to pop free, red and puckered. “Good God, you’re perfect all over. Close to coming again, aren’t you, Emery?”

  I nod vigorously, beginning to shake where I sit on his thigh. “I can’t help it. The way you’re looking at me…”

  “How is that?” He sucks on my earlobe, letting it go with a pop. “Like I want to throw you face down over this table and lick your tight, pink asshole until you scream?”

  “Clarke,” I moan.

  “Turn and face me.” He lifts me by the hips and twists my body, urging me to wrap my thighs around his hips. “Good girl. Sit on my cock, angel. Ride it with your bare naked cunt.”

  I can’t. I can’t do this, can I?

  There’s no choice. As soon as the fullness of Clarke’s flesh presses to my constricting core, I’m powerless to do anything but fall forward against his chest and buck my hips. Vaguely, I sense Clarke covering me with his overcoat, hiding me from view. And just in time, because I hear the panel slide open, the buzz of voices, before they’re blocked out again. Plates are set down, one by one, on the table and I continue to writhe on his swollen erection. I can’t help it. Feels too good. Feels like I’m going to die if I don’t keep going.

  Clarke’s hand finds my flexing backside beneath the overcoat and squeezes. “Your needs will be met first and always, Emery,” he rasps in my hair. “My angel needs to come, so I give her a place to rub her sweet, greedy clit. Simple as that.” When I pick up my pace, lights beginning to wink in front of my eyes, Clarke hisses a breath, using his hands to ride me on his lap in a punishing rhythm. “Ah, angel. If we were alone, my tongue would be buried so fucking deep inside you, I’d leave teeth marks on your pussy.”

  His words only half make sense to me, but I know they’re dirty and illicit, and even though I can sense the waiter’s presence in the room, I cry out into Clark’s chest and shudder through a climax that robs me of brain power, my hips jerking up and back on that trunk of flesh that’s been offered for my pleasure.

  I start to fall asleep afterward. How can I not? I’m cradled against the most magnificent man in the universe, his fingertips coasting up and down my spine. Before I can doze off, though, Clarke nudges up my chin and begins to feed me bites of food.

  Being cared for like a child awakens another, secret part of me.

  One I keep all to myself, not even telling Karen.

  It’s twisted and wrong, but these urges and feelings have been with me since I was fourteen. When my father abandoned me at the orphanage, unable to care for me after my mother passed away, and I was cast adrift. Until I saw Clarke Carroway in the newspaper…and he became my imaginary caretaker. My disciplinarian. The man who comforted me when I was sad or praised me for being a good girl. One day, I stopped merely looking up to Clarke. I started to want him. On to
p of me. Using me. A lover and a caretaker. The two perceptions I had of this man twined together into something…forbidden.

  I accept a bite of steak and chew it dutifully, a rush of pleasure and contentment washing over me when Clarke murmurs his approval and strokes my hair.

  If only this could last forever.

  My appetite wanes when I remember why it can’t.

  Clarke is getting ready to take me home…and I’ve already been there thousands of times. Touched his things, stolen some of them, rubbed his boxers against my open mouth, down my body. I’ve kissed his pillows and sipped from open bottles in his fridge, euphoric in the knowledge that our mouths would touch the same place. I’ve watched him from afar, hidden in shadows, and cut his image out of countless magazines, newspapers.

  He lusts for me now, but once he slakes that desire and the edge isn’t quite so sharp, he’ll want to know more about me. He’ll hunt…and while I’ve hidden my trail well, it’s only a matter of time before he finds out I’ve known him much longer than he’s known me.

  I won’t be his angel for long.

  After we finish eating and Clarke pays the bill, he holds my hand and walks me to his limousine waiting at the curb. He sits me on his lap in the backseat and kisses my face, my hair, his stroking hands coaxing another fire to life inside of me. One that will never go out.

  It doesn’t occur to me until we exit the limo and we’re approaching the forty-story building where he lives that I could be recognized by the doorman. No, it’ll be fine. I look completely different today. Don’t I? The familiar gentleman opens the door, tipping his hat to Clarke, his eyes narrowing on me in speculation. Thankfully, he says nothing as we pass and then…it’s happening. I’m walking into Clarke’s home. Once again.

  Only this time, he’s by my side. Wanting me there.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Clarke

  I’m beside myself just watching her enter my home.

  This is where she belongs.